Broken Lines and Unfinished Sentences
by littlevioletdaisies
Summary: Two months after Cato leaves District 2, Clove finally picks herself up together and writes him a long goodbye letter, recounting how they fell in love and fell apart. AU. First attempt at a Clato fic.
1. Prologue

Dear Cato,

I don't know what I'm trying to achieve by writing you this letter. Two months have passed. The summer is almost over and here I am wasting time, sitting cross-legged on my bed, writing this down on a sheet of paper. I don't even know where you are. The last time I've ever seen you was when they were escorting you to the justice hall and you turned back to give me that sad, apologetic look you knew how to put on so well. I'm sure you're sorry for leaving, even more sorry that you never even bothered to give a heads up. You never gave me the chance to say goodbye. But that doesn't matter anymore. For all I know, you could be dead.

This letter will be followed by a few more I'll be writing for you and only you. It's my way of saying the goodbye I was denied of. Besides, if I did, I'd probably not know what I would do. Would I cling on to your arm, beg you tearfully not to leave? Would I kiss you for the last time? Would I go with you? The night you left I spent it thinking about the things I would've done just so that I could be with you. Right now, though, those thoughts and fantasies of the two of us spending the rest of our lives together, happy, have been replaced by ideas on how I'm going to move on and pretend that we were never meant to be. _Pretend_. It's all that I could do now because the truth of the matter is I know that we were and forever will be made for each other.

I loved you, Cato, and this is me saying that I'm moving on because I have to.

Clove


	2. Chapter 1

**Letter #1**

It's a beautiful morning outside. The days have been sunny all throughout the summer. For most of it, Foxface would drop by the house with cakes and sweet pastries she'd buy on her way here. You remember her, right? Skinny, tiny girl with bright, ginger hair and an attitude that's as commanding as the red on her head. She was my best friend all throughout my whole life. When we were kids, I used to imagine her red hair was a big mess of flames, just pure fire eating up her whole face. It was wild fire. Most times, you'd actually believe she was on fire by the way she was always on the move. There was never a dull moment with her but what I like most about her was that she always knew how to cheer me up whenever something's got me down. Not this time though. The first few weeks of summer, she tried taking me out. We'd watch a movie, or go shopping, or anything to keep my mind off you. Once, she got so desperate, she brought me out clubbing – we lied about our age – and she introduced me to a friend of hers. Tall, blond, blue eyed. So much like you. Too much. Not enough. _Not at all_. Foxface gave up after those long, first weeks. Eventually, she'd just come by and bring me food, watch me wallow in my sadness over you. She hates you, by the way.

Two years ago, the year Foxface and I would have started high school, she and I sat at the quiet corner of the training center talking about something that must have been important to us back then. Older trainees were scattered around the different stations, completing tasks their body had grown familiar to after years and years of routine training. Little by little, the place was packing in a group of young teenagers, waiting for the list of training partners to be posted. That's the funny thing about our district – we look forward to the Games. I was no exemption. I was a Career-in-training as well.

"I just hope they don't pair me with someone stupid," Foxface says, looking at the crowds of 13 and 14 year olds awkwardly standing around the empty announcement board. All of them eager to volunteer after a two or three years of training but as we both know, the two that gets chosen ultimately depends on who our mentors pick. "I work best alone," Foxface adds, I nod. Keeping up with her would probably be a great task in itself, how much more trying not to get killed. I find myself thinking about the boy the trainers would pair me with – a knife thrower maybe?

Amongst the crowds of teenagers, I noticed you leaning against the wall, holding your beloved sword in one hand. I knew instantly that you weren't one of the new ones. You were taller, more muscular than the boys around you. Your lips cocked on one side in that arrogant smirk of yours. I wanted to know what you were thinking. _I'm better than everyone else here_. That's you, Cato. You always think you're better than everyone and I hate that about you because you're not.

"All right, children, gather around. Look for your names, check who your partner is, go to the station you are assigned to," a tall, burly man said in a monotonous voice as he made his way through the crowd, white sheet of paper in hand. He taped the sheet sloppily on the board and the second he moved back, everyone else moved in to check. Everyone was eager to see who they had to work with. Foxface and I were in no rush.

"Don't you ever wonder why past victors from the Career districts are always hardened – like criminals? You'd expect them to be happy after winning a life of luxury, right?"

Up until now, I still wondered why she asked me that question. Maybe it was an out of the blue kind of thing, a thought that kept bugging her. Maybe she saw the trainees, diligently practicing how to shoot arrows or make traps. The answer to her question haunts me every time I remember it. I think back to every district representative that District 2 has sent throughout the years and imagined what it must have been like for them – teenagers just like us – to go through what they did. _Maybe it's all that killing. You go in the Games and kill 23 other tributes – including your own district partner_, I tell her, not bothering to really see past the obvious. I mean, wouldn't killing people change you in the least?

"We're trained to kill, Clove. Kill and nothing more. Look at them", she nods towards the groups of your peers practicing, "they've been training together day in and day out, getting ready to be chosen and sent to the arena. From 13 years old all the way to the year they turn 18 – almost 5 years together. _Partners always fall in love with each other. _The worst part is going in together knowing that only one will come out. Sometimes none."

I never thought about that, I admit to her. _Did you ever fall in love with your district partner, Cato_? Her words haunted me. Would I ever fall for my district partner and put myself through that pain. My eyes drew back to you. You were now in the middle of training, slashing away at the dummies. At that moment, I wondered if you had ever loved. _Slash_. The dummy head slides off its dummy neck and I knew you never did.

Later on, the crowd of kids dwindled down to a few who still hasn't found their partners. The rest had headed on to the different stations with the older trainees helping them get started. As if the crowd planned it all out, the second I was a few feet from the list, everyone else had panned to the side, clearing a path. I could see the white sheet of paper taped to the wall, a few steps separating me from it. _Here we go,_ I thought to myself. It was as if I was walking towards my death. This is the person who will train with me, fight beside me, and see me kill other people if we are chosen as tribute. And when worse comes to worst, this is the person that might have to kill me.

I placed my finger at the top of the list and dragged it down as my eyes scan the paper. Not too far down, I find my name. Clove Greenwell —- _Peeta Mellark._

I know you hated him the day I introduced him to you and even more after that day you kissed me in the training room and I told you that Peeta and I were dating. You were hostile to him. He held out his hand and you just stared at it. He retracted it, embarrassed that his gesture of friendliness was in vain. Not wanting to waste another second, you went ahead and talked to me, completely ignoring the fact that there was another person with us. Did you ever stop to think how rude you were to him? Of course not because you're Cato. Anything you hated, you made it known. Anything you wanted, you got. He was one of the few friends I had while training. I didn't have much but you just had to make him hate me. Maybe I'm to blame as well. After all, I was the one who broke his heart. And now that I think about it, maybe it's only right that I got my heart broken as well. _What goes around comes back around and it hits you from behind when you least expect it._

I met Peeta the same day I saw the list. He cautiously approached me, introduced himself and asked if I was Clove. We shook hands and head off to the station we were assigned to - knots and ropes. We took the opportunity to get to know each other a little better. I tried to examine him a little closer, trying to figure out why I was paired with him. "I just want to know that there's more to me than just my family's bakery," he told me while looping together strings of rope. Volunteering wasn't just about pride for him. His father was a baker, and so was his father's father. His life felt like a patented pattern that generations of Mellark men has gone through. He didn't want that for himself. He knew he was meant for something bigger. He's not like us, Cato. The Games isn't a 'game' in any way for him.

Do you ever remember the first time we met? It was under very unfortunate circumstances. It was around the end of the third week of training, no later than the start of the fourth week. Sybil, the trainer for shooting arrows, was teaching Peeta and me how to hold the bow. _Point and _shoot, she said coolly. However, it wasn't that simple once you get to hold the bow in your arms. Peeta wasn't a master of it but he was definitely picking it up much faster than I did. _Screw this,_ I was thinking. _I can survive as long as I had my _knives. But what if the gamemakers left out knives on purpose? I fought back my thoughts and concentrated on the target in front of me. I remember clearly that I was about to let the arrow slip past my fingers when a scream broke out. I knew that voice. I was running towards it before my brain could even register that I was in motion.

Foxface was on the ground, shielding herself from her attacker and there you were, hovering above her with your sword ready to attack.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" your voice was booming as if Foxface's scream didn't catch everyone's attention already. I ran towards Foxface and knelt beside her. She clung on to me, shivering in fear. Her hot tears soaked through the sleeve of my shirt. "What's going on?" I tried to pull out a calm voice. In my mind, I had a number of questions jumping out at the same time. _Were you trying to get the Games started early?_

"She walked in to me while I was in the middle of practicing!" you shouted. "I almost mistook her as one of the moving dummies. I could've killed her for being so careless! What the hell were you thinking?"

Your voice frightened her, Cato. Just the sound of it struck fear in her that every sentence you spoke, she huddled closer to me. "She's scared out of her mind already, she doesn't need you screaming at her!" I fought back. Seeing my friend in her helpless state brought out some aggressiveness out of me. I must have infuriated you more because a tall boy, Marvel, stepped out of the crowd and tugged at your elbow, telling you to let it go. You reluctantly followed and went to another station where you can let out some steam. I continued to stroke Foxface's back to calm her down. "Nothing to see here," I say to the onlookers.

Foxface and I decided to take the rest of the day off. I told Peeta that I had to take my friend home. He offered to give us a ride but I explained that it would be better if I spent time with Foxface and walk it out with her. By the time we were on our way, she had stopped crying and began to tell me what happened. She and her partner, a master at botany, Reed were practicing with swords. When their trainer left them, they decided to horse around and play. She bumped into you and you quickly spun around and almost attacked her.

"Who was he anyway?" I asked Foxface.

"I've heard about him. Cato Eckhard, a sure win if ever he joins the Games," she replied like it was a fact. After a few months of training, I actually started to believe it. You were the district's bet, their prized pony sure to bring home the ribbon.

"What's so great about him?"

"His parents are both victors, they won the years right after each other. It just runs in his blood," she said. I guess volunteering was in your future, Cato. I should've seen the signs. How foolish was I to believe that when you said you wouldn't volunteer because you wanted to stay with me. We made a promise that we would give up being Careers. I held up my end, why couldn't you?

I was surprised when you snuck up behind me a few days after the Foxface incident. Peeta had to miss training so I was left all alone to practice. Instead of doing the training schedule prepared for me, I decided to stick around the knife throwing station and laze around. I won't lie, being the best in knife throwing gave me a burst of confidence. It was my thing and no one else can upstage me from it.

"Those tiny knives won't do you any good once you're up against swords and spears."

I turned around to come face to face with you. How long have you been watching me practice? "After what happened last time with Foxface, don't you know it's not safe to sneak up behind people who are practicing?"

"How much damage is that tiny knife gonna do? I could have killed your friend with my sword. Your knife, on the other hand…I wouldn't be so worried."

A faint buzz signaled that another round was coming up. In less than five seconds, I had three knives stuck to the center of the three targets. I never miss. "You should be worried if I'm the one throwing," I reply, your cockiness was rubbing on to me.

"I'm Cato."

"Good for you," I murmured while arranging the knives I had practiced with. Did you really think I was going to mingle with the person who left my friend a crying mess? _I'm Cato._ I bet that's all it takes for you to get any girl, or rather, any _other_ girl to hook up with you. It was only a few weeks in but I had already noticed the way girls acted around you. How they would practically throw themselves at you. It made me want to throw knives at their directions.

"Aren't you gonna tell me your name?"

"Nope," by then I was walking away from you, trying to shake you off but you kept following me. "You make a scene with my friend a few days back, you come up to me and undermine knife throwing, and now you expect me to be all friendly with you?"

"How about this then," you half jogged to get ahead and practically force me to a full stop. "Why don't we spar? You versus me, any weapon you want."

"You're about a foot taller than me and weigh twice as much. How do you expect me to win?"

You simply smirked that handsome smirk of yours. "Cause you're pretty and I always let pretty girls win."

"Time and place. And don't go all soft on me, I like it rough," I said through gritted teeth. My words a little too suggestive then I had intended but I willed myself not to blush. I had to keep my image up. I don't know whether you were hitting on me or trying to get under my skin. If it was the second one, then you had me where you wanted me.

"Next week, right here, after training is over."

I ask myself how I ended up liking you, Cato. In contrary to what people always say, first impressions actually do last. My first impression of you was that you were a cocky, vicious fighter and that your temper is going to be your biggest downfall if you don't learn to control it. Am I wrong? I was wrong to think that a person could change, that you could change for me or, even stupider, that I had changed you. You are still the same stupidly fearless boy that I saw leaning against the wall on the first day of training, gauging how much better you were than everyone else. But sometimes, its good to have fear, Cato. Sometimes, it's what gives you the courage to do things.

I always feared that I might lose you one day, so I gave you everything, even the things most personal and intimate. Today, I fear that I might never get over you. So now, I'm writing this letter, trying to say goodbye.

**End of Letter #1**


	3. Chapter 2

**Letter #2**

"Ready to lose, little girl?" you said while trying to get the door of the training center open. It was late in the afternoon, almost evening, when we headed back to the training center. There was no one in sight. It was only the crazy ones that would stay behind the training center to practice some more after a whole day of doing the same routine. The crazy ones like me and you.

"Save the trash talk", I told you. I wasn't in to that whole clichéd smack down right before a fight. "How'd you get keys to the center? Stole one? Made a duplicate when no one was watching?" I always found you to be the bad boy type, the type that always got into trouble and couldn't care less about the consequences.

"Well, if you have to know, once you get to _my level_, the trainers let you do whatever you want. Heck, I don't even have to come in for training but I enjoy the sight of new kids fumbling around training."

The training center was dark and, at the back of my mind, a small part of me began to think whether this whole thing was a ruse to get me to go with you here. _Is he gonna do something illegal? Is he going to steal something_? Then one question popped in my mind that I quickly pushed away. _Did he bring he bring me here because he wanted to be alone with me?_ Before I could even absorb how silly it was to think that, you flipped the switch and the lights flashed brightly. That day, you showed me something special, something I wouldn't have discovered for myself or with anyone else. It just had to be you.

Being empty made the training center ten times bigger. There was something wonderful about it. Just you and me there, the whole center our little playground. I looked at each station – void of muscular teenagers swiftly executing tasks. The intimidation and the pressure of being a Career were nowhere in sight. The entire center was our own obstacle course that throughout our time together, we got to know every inch of. It became our secret place where we would challenge each other on days that training was no longer exciting. And on days that we remember that we were two teenagers, it was our hideout for our late afternoon trysts, where we'd occasionally get busted by the janitor or one of the trainers.

"So, how are we gonna settle this?"

"Well," I stopped to think for a moment. "What _is _there to settle anyway?"

"I just came over to welcome you to the training center last week and you got mad for some reason and invited me over for a duel."

"Fine. How good are you with a bow and arrow?" I asked, spotting the nearest weapon to us. I walked over to grab a bow, ready to beat you at what game you wanted to play. I looked back at you when you don't respond after a few seconds.

You were still standing where you were with your hands crossed around your chest. The way you looked me up and down made me uncomfortable in my own skin. I don't know what it was you wanted from me or why we were here standing awkwardly in front of each other. "What's your name?" you asked so casually.

"Why are you asking?"

"Well, I want to get to know you," you said. "I'm curious."

I grabbed another bow and threw it your direction. You caught it effortlessly. "Isn't it enough that you already know my face and you know I'll be here in the training center five days a week?"

You just smiled, not knowing what else to say.

"Let's just get this over with."

* * *

"Let's just stop and face the facts," I said right after I shot another arrow and it pierced the furthest circle in the target. "We both suck at this."

At this point, we've shot more arrows in the blue and red circles in the target. I shot one that hit the yellow middle but I'm pretty sure it was a fluke because the succeeding ones never got as close. A good couple of hours must have been spent just shooting at the round target, moving targets, and human shaped target where the head and chest are marked. We were hopeless. We never were good at archery and we never got better either.

My arms ached from holding the bow upright for so long but I was too proud to show any weakness or pain. You took both our bows and hung them back on the metal rack where I got them from. There wasn't much to do by then. You ran to one of the storage rooms and came jogging back holding two bottles of water. You toss one to me and we sat down on the floor.

"So, who won?" you asked teasingly before gulping down your bottle of water.

"I think you'd agree that we both suck at it so I propose that we both would lose if we're thrown into the arena with just bows and arrows for weapons," I joked.

You laughed a little and it quickly became quiet between us. You looked at the ground and I took that opportunity to really look at you. The girls in the shower room were right – it was hard not to stare at you with your blond hair and blue eyes. I felt myself blushing. _Such a teenage girl thing to do, Clove_, I thought to myself. I wanted that moment to never end – just sitting on the floor, quiet. I look back to that moment a lot, when things were not so complicated, and I wonder whether it had been a mistake. All the warning signs might have been there but I just ignored them, a part of me wanting to be there, wanting to get to know you.

"Well, aren't you ever going to tell me you name, mystery girl?"

Your little nickname caught me off guard. _Mystery girl_. It's so delusional of me to think that your random nickname that probably just came up at the moment meant something special, like it bothered you that you didn't know who I was. Like you were dying to get to know me.

"Clove."

"Clove." I love the way my name sounds just right when you say it.

The door creaked open and a voice disturbs the silence. It sounded familiar. It was the same voice that announced that the list of partners was up, one of the mentors. "Who's there?"

"It's just me, Brutus," you shout back.

"What did I tell you about bringing girls to the training room after dark, Cato," he didn't even bother to come any closer. This must have been a casual thing for you.

"What the hell are you talking about?" you said laughing.

That moment, it all sank in to me. I wasn't the first one here. There had been others. This moment that for a few minutes I thought were special had been something you had done, probably many times before.

"Whatever. Just make sure you lock up."

"Well, you heard the man," you said, standing up. You extended a hand out to help me up but I mutter a quick 'I got this' and propped myself up on my own, secretly wishing that I wasn't too dim to have fallen for this act.

* * *

The following day in training, I was hoping that we'd be friends by then. Even though I knew that the afternoon we spent in the training center together was nothing more than just attending to an agreed meeting, I still hoped that you'd come up to me and say hi or, in the least, acknowledge that I existed. But back to training meant back to reality and the few hours we shared the other night was a thing of the past already. It took me only a number of days with you not talking to me to realize that.

* * *

A few weeks later, Peeta and I were made to climb the trees they had inside the center. I used to wonder why there were grown trees at one corner but now, as I try to pull my weight up on to the lower branches, I knew why.

"Take your time, princess," Peeta teased. He was done with his turn and, for a first timer, he was able to make it quite high up the tree. As I secure both my feet on a sturdy branch, I pause quickly to look down. "Yeah, and you just enjoy watching me!"

I must have been just fifteen or twenty feet up when I noticed your blond, head of hair towering over someone relatively smaller to you. As usual, you were practicing with your partner, Johanna. That was the first time I ever saw her practicing with you and it baffled me how she was paired with someone who had your brute force. She was on her back, looking at you with her wide brown-eyes – like a deer in the headlights. She was a goner for sure, that is, if she ever gets chosen to be a Career. But just when I wanted to turn away and go back to climbing, she rolls away from you and grabs a weapon she had tucked behind her – a throwing axe. The look of fear of her eyes shift into something else – it was vicious.

I never got along with Johanna. She treated everyone as if they got in her way. She was ruthless – the perfect Career – and she knew how to play it to her advantage. She tricks people into thinking she's weak and strikes them when they least expect it. Everyone who trained with her in the past, or see her fight, knew this tactic but everyone else outside our district did not. This girl was going to be deadly in the arena.

In the two years that I have trained in the center with her, she has said nothing but snarky replies and grunts towards me. _She doesn't like me very much, doesn't she_, I asked you one day. _Don't mind her, she's just an angry person, _you said so casually.

I tried not to focus too much at the both of you as you practiced with real weapons whereas we, the newer batch of potential Careers, practiced with wooden or plastic ones, but that's even quite rare. I climb another five, ten feet up. I notice the branches becoming smaller, more slender.

"Looking good, little Clover!" Peeta had to shout as I was high up.

I try to choose which branch would be able to support my weight but as I pull on the ones above me, they bend easily as if I could break them. In the corner of my eye, I saw flashes of silver. You took a large swing at Johanna and she ducked a little too slow, the sound of the blade of your sword scratching her protective armor could be heard. She stumbled a little, the impact of your hit tossed her off her balance. Her weapon clattered a few feet away from her. Just when I thought you were going to capitalize on it, she moved a little too quick for you this time and pulled a second, smaller throwing axe tucked in her boot and threw it right at you.

"No!" I screamed, remembering that the weapons both of you used were not practice toys.

The shock from seeing you get hit by her throwing axe caused me to put a little too much weight on the tree branch I was perched on. Not a second later, I heard it snap and I tried to grab on to any of the branches around me but everything happened too fast. I was hurtling down to the ground and my mind had stopped completely.

I land with a thud, much softer than what I expected. My eyes are shut tight and I wonder whether I broke any of my bones. _I don't feel any pain._

"Clove, are you all right?" Peeta's voice was in panic. I opened my eyes and saw his face just inches from mine. I looked around to take in what just has happened. The training center has gone awfully quiet and that's when I noticed that Peeta had caught me in his arms. I'm catching my breath and he puts me down slowly. Everyone went back to training.

"Thank you," I said, breathlessly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, grateful that he spared me from crashing painfully into the ground.

After I break away from hugging him, there you were behind me. You had a serious look on your face.

"Cato," was all I could say at the moment. "Err- This is my training partner, Peeta," I nodded towards him.

Peeta extended a hand out to you and you ignored it.

"Is you or your ginger friend causing a scene gonna be a regular thing?" you said with no hint of a joke.

"I, uhm, got on a thin branch and fell," I replied. Up close, I could see the scratch marks on your armor and the heavy dent Johanna's throwing axe had made on your chest plate.

"Hey, man. Is it okay if I talk to Clove for a while," you finally acknowledged his existence.

"Yeah. Sure, man. I'll go tell the trainers she's fine and that she just slipped," he said, before leaving just the two of us there beneath the indoor trees.

After days of not speaking to each other, it was weird seeing you again, knowing that the last time we were together it had been just the two of us right there at the center.

"You're not ready."

"Ready for what?"

"The battles."

* * *

It wasn't long after Foxface came running towards me, trying to pry useless information. One thing you should know about her – she knows everything and secrets kill her. After the lasting first impression you made on her, she was quite curious as to why you would come up to me in the middle of training. Apparently, she didn't notice the first time.

"He just told me to stop making a scene," a lie I hoped she believed. I don't know why I lied to her. What was so difficult with saying, _Oh, we hung out here – just the two of us – a few days ago and he just came up to me and asked if we wanted to make it a regular thing_. What was your angle in asking me? Did I seem so weak that you just pitied me so much you just needed to teach me yourself? Every little thing you do or say to me sends me into this whirlwind of questions that never seem to have an answer.

"He must think he's the king of this place or something," she scoffed.

"Well," I turned around and spot you quite easily where you're hanging out with a few guy friends and a number of girls who seem to be hanging on to every word you were saying. "He kinda is."

My gaze lingered a little too long at you flexing your muscles, showing them off to the girls. A pretty, blonde one tried to measure it with her hands but I feel like she's doing it as an excuse to just touch you.

Not long after, Peeta came jogging towards us, breaking my attention away from you. "A can of soda for Clove and a bottle of water for Foxface."

"Thanks," Foxface and I said in unison.

"I can't have soda. The fizz just burns my tongue." Foxface comically stuck out her tongue and leaned closer to me, threatening to lick my face. I'm laughing and playfully shoving her away. The three of us were enjoying our lunch break when Foxface simply jumps to her feet. "Well, I'm gonna leave the two of you here and look for my partner," she does a little two-fingered salute. "See ya!"

Knowing her, she was up to something, something I didn't pick up quite yet. Foxface was sly and cunning. She would notice the smallest of things.

* * *

It must have been around three months since Peeta and I began training together. It was after training, a little past four. People were clearing out of the center to head home and call it a day. You were nowhere to be found but I knew that once it hits almost six and the sun starts to go down, you'd appear out of nowhere. All I had to do was wait. My day went on like any other – Peeta and I training together with different weapons or on different skills. By this point, our trainers were beginning to notice what we excelled on – my knife-throwing and his strength – but since we were first year trainees, we continued on training in the smaller tasks as well. I did not feel challenged. What got me through the day was knowing that when it got a little dark, we would sneak back in to the center and fight each other. You were my only contender.

On days that you would skip out on training, I would hide out and wait by the trees behind the center. No one ever bothers to go around back. I would sit on the grass and polish my knives, thinking about the day it will draw blood. I was on my way to the back, separating ways from the crowd heading home, when I heard him call out to me. After training, we would usually just say our quick goodbyes and that was it – never anything more unless Foxface, him, and I planned on something to do.

Just as Foxface predicted, partners develop feelings for one another. After months of training together, Peeta confessed to me that he was starting to feel more for me than he should. You've always wanted to know how I ended up with him. You never asked but I could tell. I bet it ate you up inside, knowing that another guy had me before you. You wanted to ask but you weren't sure if you could handle it – the intricate details of how the girl you said you loved belonged to someone else. Well, that's not true. I've never loved Peeta. At least not in the way I loved you. If I had, I wouldn't be here writing to you. I would be with him, enjoying the summer, enjoying his company. _I hope the thought pains you and makes you feel guilty._

It came out as more of a blurt than a spoken words.

"I like you."

I must have had a face that couldn't be drawn when those three words were said and couldn't be taken back. He asked if we could sit by the benches and talk if I needed to. I just followed obediently, fearing that whatever word I say could alter the way things were. I didn't want anything to change between him and I.

After more than a few minutes, I spat out a pathetic, "I don't know what to say."

"I'm sorry-"

"No, don't. Please don't apologize," I said quickly. "I- I just really don't know what to say right now."

"I'm not pressuring you to say anything in return. I just wanted you to know that I have feelings for you."

The more he spoke the more real it felt and word by word, the guiltier I felt because here was a nice guy telling me that he liked me and I couldn't tell him that I felt the same way about him back. Here was someone I didn't deserve and I wish I didn't hurt. But most of all, here was a guy that I wish I hadn't led on and instead should have taken seriously because whatever it was we could have had could have been special, could have been wonderful.

I'm drowning in the ifs and buts and could have beens in my life that it's hard for me to move on and learn from past mistakes and regrets that I know I could never take back.

I'm too much of a coward to say that I can't like him back because I already liked someone else.

**End of Letter #2**

**A/N:** I'm done beating myself up that I can write or update as fast as I want to. I'm a college student and that's never easy. Truth is, I wrote the first chapter after a personal 'event' that got me so angsty that I just had to pour it all out somewhere and it resulted into that. Don't get me wrong, I love writing this. It's just that the past few weeks have been terrible – school-related mostly. On top of all that, I just can't seem to write this chapter right. It got too long so I'm chopping it here. To make up for my long absence, I promise to update very, very soon! Thank you for all the reviews, follows, favorites, and follows on tumblr :) It's 9AM where I'm from and I haven't slept yet! Haha I'd love to wake up to some reviews :


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